Drabbles and Things
by Kiwiambrosia
Summary: A random collection of things I have written that generally have no real place, but are done anyways. So, uh enjoy :) Ratings will vary
1. Chapter 1

It was an oddly warm day for the beginning of November, the first frost had yet to happen. But that just made it all the sweeter for the throng of Hogwarts students flooding into Hogsmeade for the first weekend of the year.

Parvati and Lavender walked arm-in-arm towards the small Wizarding village, the rare lull in conversation made decent room for them both to admire the group of 7th year Gryffindor boys ahead of them. With the lovely weather came the young men that would shed their long robes, and the Muggle jeans some of them wore, well, they hugged quite nicely. The view was quite pleasant for a morning walk to the village.

Parvati nudged Lavender in the ribs, who made an indignant squeaking noise and glared at her friend until she realized what Parvati was drawing her attention to. Lavender softly bit her bottom lip, but the smile still slipped through. "You ever see him after practice?" Parvati whispered. "Ginny says he likes to do laps around the pitch without his shirt on."

"Since when do you talk to Ginny Weasley?" Lavender rose a brow and lightly shoulder-checked her friend as they continued to follow the path to the village.

"Since, I'll tell you later, but for now…" She moved her arm in a way that showcased the jean-clad men in front of them. Lavender pouted and batted her lashes at her best friend. "Okay, shut up, fine, apparently, one time he lost a bet, and had to do his usual lap in nothing but a pair of edible panties she got at Diagon, and his jersey."

They clutched each other and giggled loudly, entirely missing Pansy Parkinson falling a into mud puddle.p


	2. In the Light of Selene

**In the Light of Selene**

He was almost entirely sure he was dreaming. There was no way the sight before him was truly there at all. It had to be some trick of the light, it must be, or maybe some wayward spell he didn't remember being hit with. He could _not_ be seeing what he was seeing, it was impossible to his mind. To quite possibly reality itself.

But there was one thing he knew, that being this deep in the woods alone at night was dangerous. Though the part of his mind telling him so, governing his higher thinking, was relinquishing control by the second from lack of blood flow.

He had just needed to escape his mother for an hour or so, regain his composure, stamp down his temper, and be back at the manor in time for the evening meal. How joyous this coincidence to be able to witness such beauty, such a breathtaking wonder.

There the middle of a clearing, deep within the dense forest on his mother's estates, was the most beautiful sight he had ever beheld in all his twenty-three years. The how and the why, was not so much important as the _who_.

Dancing gracefully to music only she could hear, was a maiden as fair as the moon that shone down upon her. Bare were her feet as she spun delicately in the snow, the sheer pale gossamer of her gown twirling and twisting about her. Loose and free flowing, but when she turned _just right,_ it hugged indescribable curves. It was as if she was draped in only silver mist as she danced under the mid-winter moon.

He knew that he was spying, that he shouldn't be watching this completely indecent display, but he was very aware of the translucent material she was wearing, how it was only that, and little else.

Long impossibly straight tresses the shade of starlight moved with her as she danced. Swaying silkily as she did to the tune only her ears perceived. How he was beginning to wish he could hear it too. Perhaps if he tried hard enough...

He pressed his body closer to the thick tree trunk he was using for cover. Hardly noticing the harsh scrape of bark against his tender palms, or the tearing of his shirt sleeve. If only he could get closer, if only he could talk to her. But for now he was content to watch her dance. Mindless to the fact she wasn't leaving tracks in the snow she danced on.

Her movements were ethereal and captivating. Like the faint shimmered dance of dust in a ray of starlight. He swore she must be divine. No woman on earth could move this way, no mortal face could be so beautiful. She had to be some creature of the heavens come down to dance in the wonders of the wintered forest.

It almost physically hurt him to tear his eyes away from the moonlit maiden before him, this spirit of light and beauty. But he needed to get back, before he was missed. Back to the oppressive influence of a woman who would not die. Not that he'd actually tried that yet, though there were plans.

His mother who would guilt-trip him once more, into spending the rest of the evening listening to her talk about the 'good old days' or the plethora of suitors she'd had in her younger days. But more often than not it was about what he was to do to make his way in this vastly ever changing world.

As if he was not the one running the family business. A scoff passed through his lips, breaking the silence. As if he was not the one working day and night to ensure their standing as one of the most powerful merchant families in Britain. Only for his mother to spend four hundred Galleons on a gravy boat of all things!

Quickly his thoughts fueled the anger that rested deep within himself, until he was no longer paying any attention to the dancing figure in the clearing. Only feet from his hiding place, his inner monologue spinning around and around on itself. He pulled more than his weight, he was the one all correspondence was addressed to. _He_ was the Head of this family, not his damnable crone of a mother!

In his distraction, he took a few steps from his concealment behind the barren tree, paying no mind to his surroundings. Only his plans mattered. He quickly came to the conclusion he'd spent more than enough time under his mother's foot, bending to her will and hateful demands. He turned abruptly on his heel to leave the trees and start his way back towards the large manor that rightfully belonged to him.

But was frozen mid forwards step. Breath caught in his throat, the air in his lungs chilled. Dark brown eyes the color of cocoa had opened wide. Both in shock, and in fear. The young maiden that had been dancing so carefree in the clearing was now blocking his path.

She stood intensely still. Unmoving, unwavering, her eyes frozen open under high arched brows as she stared at him, unblinking. With eyes so blue, so unfathomably blue he felt like sinking beneath the waves she seemed to keep within. He felt… barely anything. Almost hypnotized by this slip of a thing. For she she stood just barely five feet to his six and half. He towered over her in blatant comparison, but, her presence, the act of her just being felt like it took up the entire forest. In not the night sky as well.

"I've always wondered what humans taste like." Her voice was like tiny bells and tinkling chimes against the wind, so soft, so quiet, so barely there at all. But laced with a tone, a meaning he could not quite understand. His legs buckled beneath an unseen weight as she moved closer to him. Every step silent, the snow beneath her feet remained untouched, unspoilt. His lungs had still yet to restart their breathing.

As she moved ever closer, it felt like his chest compressed further, his heart slowed in its steady beating, the frigid bite of cold on his skin turning his muscles to stone. He dropped heavily to his knees, like a tree felled by axe; slowly at first, but surely and with an almost deafening sound that broke all silence. Though his ears could hear nothing save the soft nonsensical words of comfort she murmured as she got that much closer.

They cut at him deeply, burrowing within him freezing the very marrow in his bones, the blood in his veins, the thoughts in his head. She had bent at the waist, just ever so slightly. Their faces so close, noses a breath away from touching.

"I think I'll keep you." She pressed pale lips of ice against his cheek. He hardly felt a thing, but only now did he see it in her eyes. In the chilling glacial void of her irises, he could see the depths of a being with no conscience, no soul, no mercy and then his eyes saw no more.


End file.
